


I'm not... Am I?

by iraincensus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Light BDSM, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iraincensus/pseuds/iraincensus
Summary: Freyr Amell, just new Grey Warden, is to build an army and stop the blight. Well... if nobody else does.But he is more than a Grey Warden, he is a young man. A slightly damaged young man. In a circle he suddenly had to go through hell and that catches up with him again and again.Having a really dirty elf as a travel companion doesn't make things any easier. The other grey warden also behaves strangely...He is not gay! Or?





	1. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So brief warning first of all: This chapter contains rape scenes. Explicit scenes. If you don't want to read it, read the first paragraph and then read it again when the first italic part stops.

_Freyr looked at the small room. So this was the preparation room. He would spend three days here before he was tested. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, a small chest of drawers and that was it. The room was barely furnished. But he didn't recognize anything that worried him now. There were clearly too many rumours. They certainly just wanted to frighten the students. He stepped on the barred window and looked out. The view over the lake was beautiful. He rarely had such a view. Interested he looked around and discovered the available drinks. There was water, tea and even wine. Freyr had rarely drunk wine in his life. To be exact, he could count the times on one hand. Nevertheless he disregarded him. He should prepare himself. He was simply not used to alcohol. So he made himself a tea and sat down at the desk. Freyr concentrated on his meditation. This was interrupted only once when a young Templar came in. Cullen. He was nice. Somewhat shy perhaps. Thankfully he accepted the plate with bread and some roast. He replenished the tea supply and disappeared again. Quickly the magician swallowed his food. It was a little dry and very salty. So he made himself another tea. He did not know this kind. It tasted sweet. With the cup in his hand, he stepped up to the window and watched the sunset. He shook his head lightly. Something was wrong with his eyes. As if a fog was forming in his field of vision. He quickly pinched the eyelids together. He was dizzy and had to lean heavily against the wall. Something was wrong. His body felt so incredibly heavy. Only at the edge of his consciousness, the magician noticed how the door blew open. Several steps in heavy boots could be heard. What was going on here? He got sick. Were they not rumors? Was everything true? With the maker, please not._

_"Well, finally, it was about time that this damn magician finally folded."_

_Several hands grabbed him and tore the robe off his body. The magician tried weakly to defend himself, but his body simply did not obey him. He was pressed hard against the window and his arms chained. Rough hands glided all over his body and he became unspeakably sick._

_"With him we will have a lot of fun. The ass is still untouched."_

_"What, with Andraste, are you doing?"_

_"Ah, Cullen. You are doing this for the first time. We'll show this slut where his place is."_

_"You can't do that. That's rape."_

_"Who cares about that? Magicians are scum. They have no rights."_

_"I'll report this to the commander."_

_"Who do you think we got the orders from?"_

_Sluggish Freyr shook the chains. Directly he got a hard blow to the kidneys and sank to the knees._

_"Stop it! Stop it! You..."_

_"Listen carefully, newbie. Either you obey the order now and fuck the bitch, or we'll make you regret ever being born."_

_The magician heard something. The loud rattling of an armor made him come together uncontrollably. His body began to tremble. From the corner of his eye he saw a bare Cullen standing behind him. Hart had to swallow Freyer. The Templar was not excited and yet his Cock seemed gigantic to him._

_"Wow, Cullen, do you have a Qunari in the family?"_

_"What then, little one? Doesn't that bitch's ass turn you on?"_

_"Come on, Gilbert. Probably he's still a virgin and can't get a high if someone watches."_

_"There are ways and means, aren't there, Galleren?"_

_The insecure Templar was grabbed by two of his comrades. They instilled a glass of wine in him. Should he now drink himself courage, or what? The wine, however, had a completely different function. Like Cullens Cocks, panic grew in the magician. The young Templar growled darkly and stepped behind him. His fingers drilled painfully into his hip._

_"Come men, let's give the little one some space. Let him just ride the bitch right for us."_

_Laughing, the other Templars left the room. What could he do? The answer was simple. There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. He was completely at the Templars' mercy. His eyes began to burn. He would not cry now. Absolutely not. Hot breath grazed his ear and a muscular body pressed against his back._

_"I'm sorry, Amell. I'm so sorry."_

_His ass cheeks were pulled apart and something gigantic pressed against his hole. Although he bit himself hard on the lips he couldn't help but whimper. His muscles became completely hard. He wanted to relax, but it didn't work. No matter how hard Cullen pressed against his hole, he just couldn't get in._

_"Relax."_

_"Very funny..."_

_"Then cast a spell."_

_"What?"_

_"I don't want to hurt you, but with the Maker, I can't stand it much longer. If you know a spell that makes it more bearable for you, then speak it."_

_The young magician thought convulsively. Even if he took Cullen out now, he had no chance against the Templars out there. What would help him here? Maybe... he had read about a spell that magically gifted sex slaves from Tevinter used. Hopefully he remembered the right formula. Silently he recited the formula. Had it worked? He didn't feel any different. Suddenly the mighty Dong pierced his muscle ring and Cullen's body met his clapping one. Freyr opened his mouth to a silent scream and threw his head to his neck. Pure agony flowed through his body. He could smell blood, his blood. Cullen tore him apart. Moaning, the Templar drilled his fingernails into his flanks and tore open the skin there as well. With each brutal thrust he pressed him against the rough stones. Whimpering, the magician just stood there. He closed his eyes. Cullen moved more and more firmly in him and moaned loudly. Suddenly his abdomen was pulled back. A demanding hand lay thickly around his sleeping. Recklessly he began to pump him._

_"No... no... stop... Cullen..."_

_He didn't want that. If he had already been raped and degraded, he wanted to keep a last bit of pride. They should not believe that he liked that. But his body betrayed him. It must have something to do with the spell. Although the young Templar tore his asshole more and more apart, his shaft straightened up. Freyr bit his lips bloody not to scream. In addition to the unspeakable pain of his other side, there was now an unbearable pressure in his loins. With a loud scream Cullen surrendered in him. The grip around his own knob became unspeakably firm. Tormented, the magician twisted his eyes as he injected his own sperm against the stones. His legs gave way and he only hung in the chains. Freyer hadn't noticed how the other Templars had come back in. Only when Cullen left him did the pain bring him back to the here and now. A true trickle of his blood flowed down his legs._

_"Look, Gilbert. The hole is beautifully stretched. The bitch is more than ready."_

_"Oh yes. This damn whore has taken a liking to it. Isn't it true bitch? Did Cullen fuck you so hard that you couldn't help yourself? Killian, it's your turn."_

_He wouldn't scream... he wouldn't scream. Freyr remained silent when the next Templar invaded him. Unlike Cullen, he was tiny. Nevertheless he caused him pain. The guy behind him grunted like a pig and he stank. The magician let his head hang again. More and more blood flowed down his legs. With a final grunt the pig surrendered. But they didn't give him a break. Already the next one rammed into him. Freyr lost the overview. His body was a single pain and he couldn't stand up anymore. The shackles cut into his wrists. They put him belly on the chair. His ass was a single wound. He couldn't suppress a whimper when they broke him open again. The magician had really thought it couldn't get any worse when he was pulled up by his hair. Willard grabbed his jaw with his other hand and opened his mouth. Instantly he hammered his pecker into his mouth. The taste was disgusting. He rammed strongly again and again against his palate and finally into his throat. Freyr couldn't breathe any more and he had to choke. Nothing of it impressed the Templar. Hot tears ran down his cheeks. Now his neck was bleeding too. His muscles cramped and tried desperately to get rid of the foreign body. Just as he thought he was going to faint, the Templar withdrew and discharged in his face. The other was apparently finished, too. The young wizard could not prevent it, he threw up. His whole body cramped._

_"Oh, Gilbert. Now the little hole is closed again."_

_"Oh, that's no problem at all."_

_Freyr couldn't see anything. He wiped his eyes when he was lifted. He stood there trembling. He should sit down on the chair. But he had been wrong. He sat on Cullen's lap and impaled himself. Now he cried out. Cullen, on the other hand, moaned lecherously in his ear and immediately drilled himself firmly into him. The pain was unbearable. Had he thought that he was already completely ruined, his muscle ring tore even more. He could not stop crying. Unexpectedly the huge tail pressed against his prostate. Freyr choked again. That could not be, that could not be, the pain dominated all his thinking and yet it happened. His cock straightened up._

_"We have a whore here, Gilbert."_

_"I see that. Come on Cullen, fuck the slut harder. It will be quite horny because you fuck his pussy. You make him crazy. You want to be good to him, don't you? Without your firm blows, he can no longer live. Fuck him right, Cullen. Don't hold back anymore."_

_Was the Templar really so out of the way that he believed that? The magician cried out with a roar. The other one had really held back. Freyr felt as if a wild stallion was raping him. Cullen's fingernails left bloody scratches on his hip. His prostate was so maltreated that he could only see stars. His world ceased to exist. But the gracious impotence did not last long. He awoke, kneeling broad-legged over Galleren who fucked him. The magician hardly felt it, but what he felt was Gilbert behind him, who also squeezed himself into him. Now the young magician could only scream. What was left of him was now completely torn to shreds. The pain was so unbearable that he lost consciousness again after a few blows. A hard kick in the stomach woke him._

_"Get up, bitch. Time for your test."_

The magician woke screaming. Directly Alistair's face appeared beside him. Worried, the other grey guard looked at him and lined up some water.

"I also had another nightmare. Breathe calmly."

Freyr quickly avoided the hand that wanted to touch him. His gaze stuck to the dark silhouette of the tower. He nodded weakly and began to tremble. He didn't want to go back there. He just didn't want it. A warm blanket was put around his shoulders. Confused, he looked up and recognized Zevran. The elf's eyes looked at him calmly and he didn't like what he saw. Knowledge. The other man just sat silently next to him. He did not want to go back there. Freyr's gaze glided over the other warden.

_Jowan had asked him for help. They would do the same to him. He had to help him. This young man was often strange, but if he had a friend here, he probably came closest. So he had helped him and of course they had been caught. Just when he had come to terms with his death, Duncan had shown up and taken him with him. He should have packed his things, but there was nothing at all he wanted to take with him. So he had left this place. On the first day of the trip to Ostagar he had hardly been able to walk. The Grey Warden had not asked. He had not driven him either, but had adapted to his speed. In the evening he had literally collapsed in the camp. Duncan had prepared their food before his eyes every time. He had been very careful that Freyr saw every move. The warden had also eaten or drunk first each time. The older one knew. He knew everything, but remained silent. It had taken them several days and in the end he could at least walk properly again. In Ostagar the panic had overwhelmed him when he realized that Alistair was a former Templar. He tried to keep as much distance from him as possible. He seemed to notice it, but blamed it on the ancient conflict. All the time he tried to approach him slowly. He was friendly, open-minded and liked to joke. Nevertheless, his closeness was almost painful. The magician almost felt sorry for keeping him at a distance. Alistair was really worried about him. He was there from the beginning and on the battlefield he was literally his shield. He was always at his side. Their journey had been strange. Morrigan had joined them, Leliana, Sten, this golem shale and the dwarf Oghren. Freyr had turned first to Orzammer. They were to go into hiding and where could he do it better than underground? The city of the dwarves had been incredible, but they had the same problems as the humans. These power games were complicated. But he had made it. There they had also found out that Shale was once a dwarf. Hardly back on the surface they were attacked. They had spared Zevran. Not necessarily out of conviction, but he could be helpful. After all, he had given in to Alistair's requests. Redcliff... a chaos. There he had met Jowan again. Alistair had freaked out when he had let him go. But he didn't know any better. He didn't know what magicians were going through in that tower._

Quickly the magician shook his head. He didn't want to go there. Alistair stroked his arm and Freyr jumped up in panic. He looked around like a hunted animal. The other guard looked at him unsettled. Zevran had drawn his weapons and listened.

"Only a rabbit. Everything was fine. You should go into your tent, Warden."

Gratefully he looked at the elf. Fugitive he went into his tent and rolled up there. Tears ran down his cheeks and he cried himself to sleep.


	2. Confusion

The circle was a mess. He was not surprised that there were so many demons here. But instead of taking care of it he was now stuck in the void. Freyr did not know how long he had been here. Too long. At least Wynne, he had already found and been able to free. Now he was in a nightmare again. Zevran's nightmare. Shortly he had to grin. The demon tried to create a paradise for them, a place where they wanted to stay, at least with him... And the elf lay on a stretching bench. He had strange desires. Waking him up was more complicated. But finally he listened to him. Again he was alone. Again he walked through the void. Did that not end at all? He had to be here for hours. Again he stepped through a portal. Another nightmare. Alistair's... Freyr's expectations were fulfilled. He found him with his sister. And this guy just didn't want to listen to him, so he would play along for a while to get more information.

"Amell, there you are. I was wondering."

"All this time you had eyes only for your sister, Alistair."

"Oh, excuse me. Isn't it beautiful here?"

"You have a family..."

"Yes. My sister has many children."

"She did. Did you always wish that? To be an uncle?"

"As a Grey Warden, it's very unlikely to be a father."

"I understand..."

"I'm sorry. Did you want to start a family, Amell?"

"No. Never."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, it's not really easy in a circle and for another, it's very likely that I'll pass on my gift. It would be too high a risk."

"I understand... a life in a circle..."

"Either a life as a prisoner or a fugitive criminal. What kind of life would that be?"

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Did you want to become a father?"

"Yes... no... I'm a bastard..."

"A royal bastard."

"Still. I grew up in the monastery, then came the Templar training and then the guards."

"No time..."

"That's right. And I've never met a woman who would have aroused my interest."

"When this is over, maybe you'll get a chance."

"Maybe I want something else..."

"And what?"

"I don't know..."

"So you don't know what you want?"

"Yes, but it's not right..."

"Who says it's not right?"

"My upbringing."

"You are no longer a Templar."

"I know, but... I don't know either. I'm not like that, you know."

"Listen Alistair, if you really want something and it feels right for your heart, then it can't be wrong."

"And what... if my feelings are not reciprocated? I don't even know if they really are these feelings."

"If you don't try, you can't know."

"But..."

Freyr shook his head. Suddenly he felt soft lip on his. Shocked, he opened his eyes. He thought Alistair liked women... he wasn't a woman! Completely frozen, he just stood there. The former Templar withdrew and smiled at him embarrassed. What was going on here? Did the other man have feelings for him? That was impossible. That, that could not be. That was the work of the demon, for sure. He turned away trembling. Two strong arms snaked around him from behind. He became sick.

"I'm sorry... that was a bit brash..."

"No... I just can't stay."

"What? Why not?"

"The Blight must be stopped. I must build an army. That is our task."

"I'm coming with you!"

The Maker, thank you. Almost directly they were attacked by the demons. Alistair awoke after the victory. Freyr continued with uncertain steps. He had to leave here. But that wasn't that easy. His body went completely crazy. He was bad. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream... he did none of that. The magician simply went on. He had to, he had no other choice. Finally he could fight this demon. Again in the real world Freyr tried as much distance as possible between himself and Alistair. He just couldn't explain it to himself. It must have been a work of the demon. In the next room he leaned briefly against the wall. Wynne looked at him anxiously.

"What's going on? Aren't you well?"

"I had nothing more to do than you. The constant change of form was very exhausting and before that the fight against all the demons..." 

"You didn't seem to mind the fight against Drass very much."

"He was possessed. Besides, it was more merciful to kill him. Unfortunately the thought came to me too late."

Quickly he hurried on. They fought their way through the rest of the rooms. He sweated strongly and his steps were uncertain. This damn demon of desire must have cast a spell on him. The last room before the top of the tower. Fortunately, he thought he would collapse at any moment. A Templar was locked up here. Freyr could not breathe. Pure panic climbed up in him. Unstable he leaned against the wall. The trembling became stronger. Cullen. That was Cullen. The others were so caught up in the sight of him that they didn't notice his collapse. Except the elf. He only looked at him briefly before he grabbed the other two and pushed them out the door. 

"Guard the door."

He closed it behind the other two. The elf squatted in front of him and looked straight into his eyes.

"Look at me, Warden. Not on the Templar. Look at me. That's good. I will not touch you, my friend. No fear. Concentrate on your breathing. Very slowly. He won't get out. He can't hurt you. Calm down."

Very slowly Freyr managed to fight down his panic. With difficulty he got up from the ground. His heartbeat calmed down and he stepped up to the magic barrier. The elf nodded to him briefly and walked up the stairs a bit. The magician knew that he could still hear everything. Cullen knelt on the ground and begged the Maker for help.

" Maker, now the demons torture me with my guilt."

"Your guilt... aha... so that's me, your guilt."

"I didn't want that. Oh with the maker, I didn't want that."

"I doubt you wanted that as little as I did."

"I had no choice. Oh maker, I had no choice."

"Look at me. FUCK!!! LOOK AT ME, CULLEN!"

It worked. The Templar stood up and looked into his eyes. Firmly he returned his gaze.

"Amell, you're real."

"Yes. I am."

"But how..."

"I've fought my way this far. Where's Irving?"

"Up there. maleficare. So many maleficars. They killed my brothers. You must..."

"No. Your Honorable Brothers have been lucky. The Demons and Maleficare were much more gracious to them than I would have been. They deserved it."

"Amell..."

"No, Cullen. They deserved it. I'm gonna go up there and finish this."

"I'm so sorry."

"How I'd love to believe that."

He opened the door and ran up the stairs. The fight had been hard, but the circle was saved. Quickly he got the support of the magicians. Some of them would leave right after Redcliff. Freyr realized that Zevran always stood between him and the Templars. He avoided Cullen's pleading gaze all the time. The young Templar wanted his attention, but he ignored him. Finally they could leave. Wynne would accompany them. Just as he stepped out the door he heard heavy footsteps behind him.

"Amell!"

The magician froze. He was paralyzed. A hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him further. Zevran led him to the boat. Quickly they put it down. Only when they had reached the middle of the lake did he look around. On the shore stood a lonely figure. Tormented, he closed his eyes. When she had solid ground under her feet again, he finally collapsed. The Grey Warden couldn't go any further. He simply couldn't go any further. Someone pulled him back on his feet. The elf supported him.

"We spend the night in the tavern. The warden urgently needs a break. A real break."

Staggering, he followed the assassin. He organized a few rooms for them. He himself got a single room. Zevran helped him to the bed and then left him alone. Freyr just kept trembling. At least he didn't cry. At some point he fell asleep, but woke up in the middle of the night. He was sweating and his abdomen hurt terribly. So this damn demon had cast this spell on him. Groaning, he freed himself from his robe. Panting heavily, he lay on the bed. Amell knew what to do. His hand slipped to his hard cock. Carefully he stroked his fingers up and down. He moaned with relish. His grip became firmer. Slowly he let his hand glide up and down the whole length. Already now he could feel the first drops, but then he suddenly thought to feel a rough hand on his dick. Panically he pulled one hand back. There was nothing here. He was alone. So he enclosed his dong again and pumped himself gently. Hart bit Freyr on his lips. Finally... he was so close... the feeling came back. Screaming he tore his hand back. That could not be. He was... he was not capable of it. He could not do it without thinking of the Templars... Desperately he gnawed at his lip. What was he going to do now? So he had to endure the pain. The magic would pass... Sometime. Resigned, the magician slipped under his blanket. He could bear it... He had to. Amell could not tell how much time had passed when the door opened quietly. Some candles lit the room. Confused, he looked into Zevran's face. His gaze slipped between his thighs and he began to grin. Freyr quickly sat up and tried to conceal his problem. 

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard you."

"You heard me? Damn, how good is your hearing?"

"With things that interest me? Very good."

"Oh and I've aroused your interest?"

"You did. Very even."

"Listen, Zevran... I have no interest in men."

"You can't imagine how many times I've heard that sentence, Warden."

"I..."

"I know. I know very well, my friend. The others may be blind, but I am not. I know what they have done to you."

"You don't know..."

"Well, not explicitly, no. But I know enough. The demon has cast a spell on you and you cannot touch yourself without thinking about it."

"You... how do you know that?"

"I have ears, Warden. And I have experience."

Hart had to swallow Freyr. The elf placed the candlestick on the bedside table and sat down with him on the bed. He immediately retreated from the other. His limb was already pounding painfully, yet the panic rose again in him. Especially when he recognized a thin leather band in the elves' hands. But he turned his back to him and crossed his arms behind it.

"That is not for you, Warden. But for me. I am not a Templar. I have no chance against you, but if it helps you to make me even more defenceless, go ahead."

"I have..."

"It hurts already, doesn't it? And you know that it can take hours, if not days. I grew up in a brothel, Amell. I can help you without touching you too much."

"You are a man and I..."

"A mouth is a mouth."

Where he was right, he was right. So he took the strap and tied the elf's hands behind his back. In a flowing movement the blonde stood up and knelt in front of the bed. Freyr still hesitated, but finally he sat down at the edge of the bed. Ashamed, he turned the blanket to the side. The assassin licked his lips hungrily. The younger one quickly closed his eyes. But the touch of the tongue came all the more surprising. Groaning, his head sank to his neck as Zevran licked his testicles. The wet limb slid along his entire tail, caressing the tip of his wet glans. Freyr clawed himself into the mattress. That felt incredible. The elf kept licking his cock and also firmly over his testicles. The forehead of the other pressed firmly into his stomach as he tried to put his lips over his tip. The black haired man grasped his own knob to make it easier for Zevran. Roughly, he groaned as his limb dipped into the oral cavity. The soft lips lay tight around his wang. Sizzling, he sucked in the air and tried to gather himself. The tongue pressed him against the hard palate and imprisoned him. In addition, the elf sucked him hard. He penetrated further and further into the wet narrowness. Firm muscles surrounded him. The assassin swallowed and his fat slipped into his throat. Without wanting it, the magician's fingers got caught in the soft hair. Roughly he grabbed his hand and began to buck towards him. Zevran moaned directly. Shocked, the younger one remained. What had he done? But at that moment the blonde devoured him again. The nose bumped against his pubic bone. Lustern he looked down and their looks met. Hesitantly he moved towards the other again and he nodded only slightly. As soon as his loins rose again towards the other, he began to tremble. He... it made him horny? So his grip became stronger in the long hair and he began to fuck the mouth of the other. Zevran's throat cramped. Freyr moaned loudly at the narrowness. That was unbelievable. He pushed harder and harder into the other man. His abdominal muscles twitched uncontrollably. One last time he pulled up the tempo.

"Zevran... I... hng... ah... I..."

Instead of the blonde retreating, he just took him deeper into his throat. With a silent scream, he injected deeply into the foreign throat. Panting heavily, the elf looked up at him. The hair was stuck in his forehead and he trembled.

"Zevran... you... that makes you horny, doesn't it?"

" Warden..."

Hart had to swallow Freyr. The elf seemed to be on the verge of his own climax. What should he do now? Slowly he stood up and cast a spell. Immediately his limb stood up again. Zevran literally jumped on his cock. Freyr groaned loudly when his dick disappeared again completely in the wet narrowness. Roughly he grabbed his full hair and began to bump hard into his throat. As soon as he moaned, the magician couldn't help sighing. He worried about hurting the other, but he seemed to like it. The harder he rammed into him, the louder the elf became. After a few firm blows, the elder cramped. His dick was imprisoned tightly in his throat and he surrendered again. After a breath of fresh air he looked down on the assassin. He was completely finished.

"Fuck... Warden... nobody's ever done that to me before."

"You are really horny of it..."

"You gonna call me a whore, a bitch, or a slut?"

"Actually, I'm cursing the Maker that you're not a woman, but if that would make you happy..."

Freyr loosened each other's shackles. He just smiled at him and disappeared from the room. Completely exhausted, Amell went to bed. This time he didn't dream of being torn apart.


	3. rose

He had managed to save Conner. But instead of the fact that it was now over, he had to look for the holy ashes. As if he had nothing else to do. Nevertheless he had agreed to do so. They would still need the Arl. On the way to Denerim he had given Alistair the found medallion. This seemed to mean a lot to the other warden. What had happened in nothingness... they both preferred to remain silent about it. Since then, however, the former Templar often spoke to Leliana. And he looked at him so strangely all the time. This time the return to the tower was not so terrible. It just annoyed him that they were constantly sent back and forth. Tomorrow they would reach Denerim again and if they were there again, they would immediately look after Alistair's family. Exhausted, Freyr sat by the fire. He and Alistair had the first watch. It was quiet in the camp. Everyone slept quietly in their tents. The other one seemed to want to address him all the time, but then lost his courage every time. This seemed strange to the magician, but he also preferred to remain silent. Silently he stared into the fire and sipped his tea now and then. He only drank it when he himself or Wynne prepared it. Otherwise the warden preferred to stay with clear water. Suddenly Alistair sat next to him and held a wild rose in his hands. The color reminded of the red of blood. 

"Here, look at this. You know what this is?" 

"Your new weapon of choice?"

"Yes, that's right. Watch as I trash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Fell my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent! Or, you know it could just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison. ”

"Sentiment can be a pretty potent weapon."

"Is it that easy to see right through me? I guess, I shouldn't be surprised. I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking: How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness? I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. the darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."

"That's a nice sentiment."

"I thought that I might... give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

"Feeling a little thorny, are we?"

"Wow... He'll never see through that, I told myself. Boy was I wrong." laughed the other grey guard. 

"I can read minds."

"I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness."

"Um... thank you..."

"I'm glad you like it. Now... if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits. I'd appreciate it."

But that went in the wrong direction. How did he get out of here? With a joke, perhaps? Distraction was never wrong. He would probably do the other one a favour with that, too. 

"Sounds good. Off with the armor, then."

"Bluff called! Damn! He saw right through me!", it came nervously laughing from the former Templar

"You're so cute when you're bashful."

That's when Zevran and Leliana came to replace her. With the rose in his hand, the dark-haired man went into his tent. Unbelieving he stared at the flower in his hand. What the hell was that? He must have misunderstood something. Certainly even. Alistair just wanted to be nice. The former Templar liked women. He had told him that more than once. And he was a man and couldn't do anything with men himself. He had been in a circle for so long, in his own closed world. Probably he didn't know many habits at all. Amell did not notice how long he had been sitting there. Suddenly the tarpaulin was knocked back and Zevran entered.

"Is something wrong?"

"Everything is all right. You and Alistair, that was funny."

"He gave me a rose..."

"Ah, a rose. The flower of love."

"Very funny."

"No joke, my friend."

"Alistair's not gay and I'm clearly male."

"Oh yes, quite clearly. Still, he seems to be interested in you."

"That's ridiculous..."

"Why? Because you're both men?"

"Yes... no... I don't like men... so... not so..."

"Which doesn't change anything. He likes you, as a person. The sex is not important there after all.

"That sounds so easy with you."

"It is simple."

"Maybe for you. I can't do that."

"Because he's a man?"

"Among other things..."

"He was a Templar... I doubt he'd force you into anything. You don't have to do anything, Warden. If you want, act stupid."

"And that is supposed to work?"

"Maybe. If you don't react, then maybe he will give up."

"Thank you, Zevran."

"Not for that, my friend."

"Will you ever recover from it?"

"With the time..."

"You really believe that?"

"I know it."

The elf left his tent again and Freyr lay down to sleep. The sister of the former Templar was a beast. On the other hand Morrigan was still nice to the other warden. If that was how his family looked, he hadn't missed much. Nevertheless, he tried to talk to her as calmly as possible. Not for this woman, but for companions. Finally a quiet conversation developed between the siblings. The young magician left the building. Now he would only disturb. Outside he breathed in relieved, only to crawl into the shadows the next moment. Templars... They were everywhere, too. Immediately he began to tremble again. Freyr forced himself to inhale deeply. The blood was rushing in his ears. He became incredibly sick. He had to calm down. These men had done nothing to him. They had not been there. He was not allowed to give in to the panic. Sten walked past him and he simply joined the Qunari. It took some time for Alistair to join them again. The blonde smiled at him gratefully. So they went back to the scholar's house and finally found out where they really had to go. Haven. It would take a few days to get there. The other Grey Warden kept opening up to him and finally walked beside him.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"That you took the time for my family business."

"It was important to you. I can understand that."

"Are you all right?"

"I am a little exhausted and irritated. We run back and forth to hunt ghosts."

"You don't think we'll find the urn?"

"I don't know, Alistair."

"Don't you believe in the Maker and Andraste?"

"I believe she existed."

"I didn't mean that."

"I have lost my faith."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"And if we find them and the ashes help the Arl?"

"Is it good. But it doesn't change anything. I don't believe in a kind maker."

Silently they went on and finally reached their goal. Haven had been a chaos. All the cultists... but that wasn't what they couldn't cope with. But the enemy now... A dragon. A real, real dragon. Sten could hardly be braked, he was so enthusiastic about this opponent. The magician had rather mixed feelings. Even though he was always furthest away from the enemy, he was worried. Quickly he threw himself back into cover. He simply didn't get the chance to cast powerful spells. The opponent simply didn't give him time for that. Again he concentrated. Only a few syllables left... shocked, he looked at the fire surge approaching him. Alistair suddenly stood in front of him out of nowhere and intercepted the attack with the shield. The heat had to be unbearable. As fast as he could he cast one spell after another. The magician was dizzy. He didn't know how many spells he had cast, but finally the dragon gave up. He collapsed dead. His companions immediately began to take him apart. Freyr breathed deeply. He wasn't good at healing, but he used his remaining energy to take care of his comrades' wounds. Alistair stayed by his side the whole time and kept looking at him anxiously. Progress in the temple itself was easier. It was mainly a matter of the mind. He had learned a lot from his comrades-in-arms. He himself had interrupted the man at the question. Now he stood in front of the small altar and read the inscription. Sighing, he looked at the others.

"Drop your clothes."

Naked they stepped through the flames. Correctly interpreted. As soon as the fire was extinguished, the magician quickly dressed again. Slowly he walked towards the urn. So the legend was true. Very carefully he opened the container and took something from the ashes. He didn't feel comfortable with it.

"How does that feel?"

"I feel as if I am disturbing her peace of death."

"Yes, but..."

"Do me a favor. If for any reason I should be canonized, scatter my ashes in the wind. Afterwards a poor lunatic comes and fingers me."

As fast as they could they left the temple. It was just not right to be here. Again in Haven Freyr breathed out relieved. They decided to stay the night. They were all exhausted and brother Genitivi could hardly walk. And since it already dawned they cleared some houses empty. He and Zevran took over the first guard. The assassin added firewood and looked at him checking.

"Alistair risked quite a lot to protect you."

"He did. It was stupid."

"Love makes you stupid."

"He doesn't love me. He loves the idea of being in love."

"If you think so, Warden."

"The fight against the dragon has caused some things in you."

"Oh, not only in me my friend. Our Qunari also suddenly had a second sword. I wonder what he yelled at the dragon."

"Taarsidath - an halsaam. Hard to translate, but it means as much as: I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect."

"So now he masturbates in his bed."

"Probably."

"Who would have thought that Qunari could be so dirty."

"Says the one who had a hard-on himself."

"Sten and I from the fight and Alistair from your naked rear view."

"Very funny, Zevran. You try to distract. I can see you're still excited."

"I can be very steadfast, Warden."

"Then maybe you should go to Sten. He could probably use some help."

"Unfortunately, he and Alistair are taking over the next guard."

"Okay... Let's leave it at that."

"Sex and love are something completely different. The experience influences you, but it's not like that."

"Hard to believe... I never want to feel so helpless again... so exposed."

"You have to learn to trust again and you have different options as a man."

"Um... yes... I have something for you."

"Oh? A fish soup?"

"No. Leather boots from Antiva. I found them in one of the houses."

He handed the elf his boots and he put them on immediately. Freyr had to smile at the expression on the other's face. Their relief came and they withdrew into one of the houses. Ashamed, the magician turned his back on the other man as he took off his robe. To his shame he had to admit that he himself had to do with the aftermath of the fight. His dick was bulging. A warm hand lay on his shoulder and he was turned around. With reddened cheeks he looked at the assassin. He grinned only amusedly and knelt in front of him. He didn't want to now... but he wanted to. The skilful tongue glided over his hard cock. 

"Zevran..."

"What is it, warden? I have to thank you for the gift."

Did you have to? Should he have thanked Alistair for the rose? Then all his thoughts disappeared. His knob disappeared in the moist oral cavity. Groaning, he dropped his head to his neck. His hands got caught in the full, soft hair. Directly the elf sighed on it. The magician flinched slightly as Zevran grabbed his ass to direct his waist. Then, however, he pulled his hands back. He sucked on his tail firmly and erased all doubts. Firmly the Grey Guardian began to push into the other. Without any problems he penetrated into the elven's throat. The strong muscles seemed to welcome him as they lay around him. The other man moaned with every thrust. It wasn't long before Freyr surrendered deep in the other man's mouth. Panting heavily, he sat down on the edge of the bed. The assassin was still kneeling excitedly on the floor. Slowly he crawled towards him. 

"I need more, Warden..."

"Zevran, I..."

"I don't want your ass. I want to feel your mighty cock inside me."

"I am not..."

"You enjoy my lips?"

"Yes..."

"Who says you don't like the rest of it?"

The logic could not be dismissed. Maybe he could with men if he was the active part... The other one used his hesitation and sat on his lap with his legs apart. The well-formed butt rubbed directly against his flabby dong. The cheeky tongue licked over his auricle. That felt good, yet he was completely frozen. The elf's body seemed to glow. The magician swallowed dry.

"Tie me up..."

"What?"

"You heard me, Warden. Tie me up. Then it will be easier for you."

Directly his opposite stood up and took out the leather strap again. Like a few days before, he tied the blonde's hands back together again. As soon as he was tied up, he kneeled on his lap with his legs apart again. The full lips caressed his neck. Enjoying, the magician closed his eyes. Their warm bodies rubbed against each other. Slowly his phallus came back to life and straightened up to full size. Zevran kept rubbing against him. His lips seemed to be everywhere. Slowly he sank back and the elf kissed his chest. The gifted tongue licked his nipples. What was that about? He wasn't a woman after all. The next moment he moaned with relish. The suction on his erect nipple made his whole body tingle. The lower body of his playing moved on and on. He kept rising again and again and tried to change his angle more and more. Resigned, the older one snorted when he simply couldn't make it. Grinning broadly, Freyr grasped his own limb and held on to it. Immediately the blonde positioned himself above his tail. Sizzling, he sucked in the air as the tip of his glans hit the tight muscle ring. Only very slowly did it stretch. The sounds of Zevran were now pain distorted. So he quickly grabbed his hip and held him tight.

"I can handle it, Warden."

"But I don't... what can I do?"

"Stretch me."

"How?"

"With your fingers."

He turned to the side with the other one. Quickly the blonde kneeled down again. He presented his ass to him properly. His head rested on the pillow. With the tied hands he could not support himself of course. Freyr examined the naked body before him. Slowly he let his finger glide over its hidden entrance.

"If you use your finger with saliva... AH! Fuck! Yes!"

"Magicians have their means so."

He had cast the spell he had cast before. His finger had penetrated the other body without any problems. Zevran was unspeakably damp. Some of his juice was already running down his legs. Hungry the magician licked his lips. Very carefully he moved his finger in the sweet narrowness. He felt wet walls. Finally he hit the light elevation and made Zevran scream. He had hit the prostate. Now he kept pressing against the braid. Soon he could push a second finger into the other. Slowly and carefully he spread his fingers. Freyr could watch as the muscles continued to stretch. The elf became louder and louder. His chest flickered.

" Warden... Fuck me now ... "

"Shut up..."

"Please..."

That sounded different already. So he took his fingers from the other and kneeled behind him. Firmly he embraced his hard cock and I bent down. Again and again he bumped against the anus of the other. It stretched willingly for him, but the magician only ever penetrated with the glans, only to withdraw again. The elf's whimpering only spurred him on even more. To have this power excited him immensely. Freyr didn't know that he had this side to him. The blonde man's gaze became begging. Only then did he understand. With a firm thrust he sank into him. The black-haired man pressed his lips together hard. The strange body twitched around his dong. He thought he could feel every tension of the strong muscles. Roughly he grabbed the hip of the older one and began to ram hard into him. The moaning and the sound of their bodies colliding with each other filled the whole room. 

"Yes! Oh yes! Warden! Tighter! I am coming..."

"You won't."

Freyr put his hand around the hard dick of his playing. He cast a spell and Zevran whimpered. He quickly withdrew from the other and lay down beside him. Without any problems he lifted him up and sat him on himself with his legs apart. Immediately he penetrated into the other again.

"You won't come until I allow you to, and now you're working it out."

The elf rode him hard. Enjoying the dark hair moaned up. He observed the body of the other exactly. The lascivious expression in his face, the heavily twitching abdominal muscles... He stood so close to it and yet he could not find his climax. The gluteal muscles continued to imprison him. Whenever the other let himself fall on him, his limb struck against his stomach. His hands moved again to the assassin's hip. Firmly he began to direct him. So he slowed down his tempo extremely, but pressed him harder into his lap. 

" Warden... please..."

"What is it, Zevran?"

"I can't go on..."

"Really?"

"Please... I'll do anything you want... I'll be your bitch, your personal whore. You can fuck me whenever you want."

"How many men have you told that to, crow?"

"No one. I swear..."

"Don't lie to me."

He firmly slapped the other one on the well-formed ass. Directly the elf moaned lustfully and threw himself into the hollow back. In spite of the magic the first drops of his glans bubbled off. The smaller one began to wind on him. A dark grin lay on the face of the magician. So Zevran was on it. 

"Get up."

"What?"

"Go."

As soon as the other obeyed, Freyer sat up and slipped to the edge of the bed. There he put the elf over his knee. He reached far out and hit the elf hard on the ass. Excited, the elf cried out. Again and again Freyr struck. Finally he released the spell from his playing. Immediately the other one squirts off. Roughly he grabbed the still flaccid body and penetrated him again. After a few brutal blows he surrendered in the glorious narrowness. Panting heavily, he held on to the older one. With trembling fingers he released the shackles and sank back onto the bed.

"Amell..."

"What is it, Zevran?"

"Wow..."

Laughing, he stroked the elf's head.

"Probably nobody has found out yet."

"No... are we doing this again?"

"I'll get a whip."


	4. convergence

"What connects you and Zevran, Warden?"

"What do you mean, Alistair?"

"You gave him gloves..."

"Did I... his mother had similar."

"So, were you just being nice to him?"

"I gave Leliana something, Oghren, Morrigan, Shale, Wynne and Sten. I gave everyone something and Zevran disturbs you?"

"Yes... no... It just occurred to me that you spend a lot of time together."

"You spend a lot of time with Leliana."

"I... she has more experience in many things than I."

"That pleases me, for you two."

"No, no. It's not like that. She has already seen a lot of the world."

"Zevran too."

"Zevran is... an assassin."

"And Leliana is a bard. I talk to an assassin, you talk to a spy. In court we would both have a bad reputation."

"That's right. Do you like him?"

"Do you like her?"

"I asked first."

"I like him. We're having a good time."

"The same goes for me."

"And where does she have more experience than you?"

"In love matters..."

"Oh. Well, good luck to you both."

"No... she's just advising me."

"Ah there is another one that interests you?"

"Well... there's someone..."

"That's fantastic, Alistair. I hope it works."

Smiling, Freyr got up and went to the small lake. So Zevran was wrong. Alistair had no interest in him. Relieved the magician breathed in and looked at the forest. Hard to believe that there should be a curse here. He had already expected attacks from the werewolves, but they remained silent. Something was wrong with these creatures. He simply could not believe that they were like the Keeper said. He hid something from them and just couldn't say what. Only that something was not true at all. He knew that for sure. The dark-haired man took off his robe and sat down in the water. His guard was now over anyway and he could take the chance to wash himself properly. Soon he felt observed and looked around attentively. Quickly he recognized Zevran to come on himself.

" Warden."

"It's you Zevran."

"Not only me, my friend. Other eyes also rest on your body."

"Oh and which ones?"

"The other Grey Warden's."

"You must be wrong. He is interested in a woman."

"He told you that?"

"That's about it."

"Hmmm very strange. Still, he's sitting back there in the bushes."

"Who knows what he's doing."

"I'd wash myself very slowly and see if he'd be a little stiff afterwards."

"Naughty boy."

"As if you didn't know."

"I guess I let your upbringing slide."

The shiver that ran through the elf's body made him smile. 

"Do you like him?"

"Somehow got into a déjà-vu. We understand each other well. His closeness no longer triggers panic in me."

"Well... your looks..."

"I admire his recklessness."

"Ah... yes... his recklessness."

Slowly Freyr walked back to the shore and dressed. He went into his tent and went to sleep. They had been in the forest for days. They would probably reach the ruins tomorrow. Perhaps he would then find out the secret.  
But what he then experienced was outrageous. He had guessed that the Keeper had a secret, but that... Silently they went back to the Dalish camp. The clan was saved and the people were saved. Nevertheless... the spirit would have been a powerful ally. Alistair had been walking beside him the whole time making plans. They were supposed to get back to Redcliff really quickly. The forest seemed to be more sympathetic to them this time. They progressed much faster. Arriving at the camp, he explained everything to the new guardian. As fast as they could they left the forest. It was strange to walk on paved roads again. Freyr went through in his head all the new formulas he had received from the enclosed spirit. A form of magic that no one had used for over a hundred years. The formulas were in a language he didn't know. Freyr had always enjoyed learning languages. But he had never heard them before. It had to be a very old elf language. What if he stressed some syllables wrongly. Practice would be absolutely necessary. One thing had already changed. He could now wear armour without being tired. So he had exchanged his robe for a Dalish armour. He had hoped to reach the village that day, but it was already dawning. They were looking for a place to camp. As always he took over the first guard. This time again with Alistair.

"You often look in the direction of Lothering."

"I had relatives there and wonder if they could escape."

"Why didn't you say anything back then?"

"Two of them are magicians and they could escape the Templars. One does not draw attention to such families.

"They are Apostates?"

"Does the bastard ask?"

"I... I angered you."

"Yes. I can't help my magic. I never asked for it... but because I have this gift, they have the right to snatch me from my family and lock me up."

"Magicians are dangerous."

"Oh yes and in the circle we become even more dangerous."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I always thought that all this had its correctness. I wasn't thrilled, but I could accept it. Now I wish death to every Templar".

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"You don't want to talk about it."

"Right."

"What do you think if we train something?"

"You want to teach me sword fighting?"

"Why not?

"Then go."

Alistair got his sword and started teaching. First he showed him the right position. Again and again he corrected his posture and showed him how to wield the sword. He grabbed his hand while standing behind him. Freyr tried to imitate every movement exactly. Sweat ran down his forehead, but he felt good. Even the fact that de Templer stood close behind him the whole time didn't bother him. Their bodies rubbed against each other all the time. That didn't bother him either. Only in the middle of the night did they stop. The magician gave the other warden a last smile before he withdrew into his tent.  
Arriving at Redcliff Freyr could have screamed. Now they were supposed to go to Denerim. They had only just arrived. Fortunately the Arl had an understanding and they would not leave until tomorrow. They should rest. The magician enjoyed the luxury of having his own room. He took a hot bath. All his muscles hurt. Towards evening he went to the dining room. Somewhat confused, he looked around. Only Alistair sat at the table. This one was only set for two. Still perplexed, he sat down.

"What about the others?"

"You are a little late. The others are already finished."

"Oh... I didn't know I was so late. You waited for me especially?"

"Food alone isn't that great."

"Thank you."

So the magician began to eat. The food tasted excellent. But he didn't touch the wine or the tea. Like every time he only drank water. It was a bit strange to eat with the other man here in candlelight.

"I thought you liked tea."

"I... yes... made bad experiences. I only drink it when I know exactly where it comes from."

"I understand... I'm sorry."

"It's all right. Let's not talk about it anymore."

"Agreed."

"Are you making progress with your beloved?"

"Well... I don't know. Every time I think I'm making progress, I seem to make a mistake."

"Love should be complicated."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"No. It is... it would be quite stupid to fall in love in a circle. You can lose everything at any moment. No magician with a mind is stupid enough to make himself even more vulnerable."

"And... do you have any preferences?"

"How do you mean that? Dark-haired, blond. Big, Small, Strong, Athletic? Something like that?

"Yes..."

"I think it depends on the individual. I can't say I have any preferences."

"Oh... that's... um..."

"Are my answers embarrassing you, Alistair?"

"No. I just don't know what to do."

"Then let's just change the subject."

They talked about everything for some time. Finally Alistair poured him a glass of wine, but drank it before he handed it to him. Laughing, Freyr shook his head, but accepted it gratefully. When they were both full, the other man led him into the garden of the castle. He did not know this place. It was beautiful here. The former Templar walked close to him the whole time. The dark-haired man thought it strange, but he said nothing. Fascinated, the magician looked into the sky. It was strangely peaceful here. All of Ferelden was on fire and there was a deceptive peace here. Alistair stood so close to him that her arms touched. They walked through the entire garden. The other told him how he had spent his childhood here. When they arrived at the stables, he looked at the horses with interest.

"Can you ride?"

"No. I never got the chance. In my earliest childhood there was a pony on our farm. But... well... in a circle... I only left the tower again with Duncan."

"You never came out of the tower?"

"No. Students are not allowed to do that. Only after the examination one gets the permission. Every now and then magicians are requested..."

"I could teach you."

"You're already teaching me swordplay."

"So what? I don't mind that. It's normal with the Grey Wardens."

"Oh so. You train me so to speak?"

"I wouldn't say like that. I just like to do it."

"If we get through this whole thing all right, then I'll come back to it."

He gently stroked a centime. As a little boy he had always dreamed of it. He had seen himself on the back of a horse, riding over the vastness of Ferelden. Just be free. Freyr felt Alistair's warm breath in his neck. He quickly turned around and looked at the former Templar. He stood right in front of him. He took a step to the side. 

"I then go to sleep. Thank you, Alistair. Good night."

Freyr made his way back to his room. He had just seen Cullen, not Alistair. He had never noticed the resemblance between the two. He only with difficulty suppressed a tremor. Cullen... he didn't hate him. But he wouldn't look for his closeness either. Only when Freyr closed the room door behind him did he have his body under control again. He did the other Gray Warden wrong. He would never hurt him. But he had also thought the same of Cullen. Some heartbeats he just stood there with his eyes closed. When he turned around he had to grin. In his bed lay a naked elf. The magician walked calmly to the bed. His fingers danced over the naked back of the blond man.

"What do we have there?"

The elf sighed softly. Goose bumps decorated his whole body. Gently he began to tremble. But then his hand was grabbed and his fingers kissed. Zevran sat up and pulled him onto the bed next to him.

"What's the matter, Amell?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"We have known each other for almost a year. I know you quite well by now. So: What's going on?"

"I noticed that Alistair resembles Cullen."

"The Templar?"

"Yes."

"He raped you."

"He and fifteen others. I believe. I lost track of it at some point."

"And Alistair... Fuck, Warden. Now I also know why you stayed out of his way for so long."

The assassin snuggled up to him. So he sank onto the bed with him in his arm. He was actually just waiting for it to start touching him, but he did not. The Assassin just stayed lying there. Zevran pulled the blanket over their bodies and made himself comfortable in his arms. Early the next morning they got ready to leave. The magician headed for one of the wagons when one hand touched his shoulder. He turned around and looked at Alistair questioningly. He had two horses at the reins. Astonished, he looked at the animals. Gently he stroked the pallor of the horse. The other warden helped him to ascend. The former Templar also climbed on a horse and led his on the reins. As soon as they were out of the village he got the reins pressed into his hand. Alistair explained everything to him very precisely. Already in the middle of the day he found riding easy. Eventually they galloped. Laughing, he looked at the other man who was riding next to him the whole time. He restrained the stallion and looked back. They had already ridden well ahead.

"You learn quickly."

"I have a good teacher."

"Or you're just a natural."

"Thank you, Alistair."

"Not for that..."

"Did something new happen to you?"

"No... but I think I'm getting closer."

"That's great."

"Yes... can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Would you... so you want... um... you... you really want to make me king?"

Freyr had strong doubts whether that was really the question Alistair wanted to ask him. But if he did not dare, he would certainly not persuade him.

"I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want, Alistair. I only fear that we must consider this possibility."

"I am a grey warden."

"You can be more than that. You're not just a grey warden."

"What are you going to do when this is over?"

"I go into the free marches and look for my family. They come from Kirkwall and maybe they made it there." 

"That could be. Will you stay with them then?"

"No. I just want to know if they are all right." 

"Will Zevran accompany you?"

"Why should he?"

"I just thought..."

"You think a lot about me and Zevran. I also spend a lot of time with Morrigan. That doesn't seem to bother you."

Now the other one seemed insecure. Apparently he was really worried now. Ah... he wanted to get closer to the witch. Opposites should attract each other as is well known. Grinning, he looked at the young guard and steered his horse beside a carriage. He would probably feel all his muscles tomorrow, but that didn't matter now. Their arrival in Denerim was, of course, immediately noticed. At the estate of the Arl Alistair helped him from the horse. Again they had spent a whole day on the street. The cooks prepared them something to eat. After he had had enough, he said goodbye to the others. In his room he sat down on his bed and just waited. As soon as he had his own room, the elf was never long in coming. He grinned broadly when the assassin really came into his room.

"I was wondering where you were."

"I got some oil."

"Oil?"

"For a massage. You've been on a horseback all day." 

"You just want to see me naked."

"And if I want that."

Laughing Freyr took off his clothes. He lay down on his back and waited. Zevran came completely naked to him and sat down on his hip. The elf warmed the oil in his hands before stroking his chest. Enjoying, the magician closed his eyes. The strong hands stroked all over his body. Every now and then he sucked in the air with noise. Many a grip was quite painful. Finally he was turned on his stomach. The dark-haired man was still completely relaxed. The lower part of his back was very grateful for the attention. Almost as much as his legs. Only briefly the long fingers stroked over his reverse side. The blonde hairy one seemed to give up massaging this muscle party. But then the strange hands stroked over his ass again and again. Carefully he also kneaded these muscles through. Never before in his life had he felt so relaxed. Slowly he sat up.

"How can I thank you for that, Zevran?

"You know that very well, my friend.

"Dirty piece. You know what you have to do."

Without grumbling the elf let himself be bound. Amell pulled out a blindfold and put it on the blond hair. Directly goose bumps formed on his body and his nipples straightened up. Without hesitation he laid the other one over his lap again. A dark glitter lay in the eyes of the guard. From riding he still had the crop. He hissed and let it drive onto the bare curves. The eleven screamed with a roar. Tenderly his fingers stroked over the red strip before he struck again. No rewords came from the older one. Always alternating he struck, or caressed the damaged places. Sweat covered his lover's body. Again and again he moaned. Freyr lifted him up and laid him on the bed. Satisfied, he looked at the excited face and noticed the exact twitch as the spell began to work. He completely disregarded the fully erect cock. Instead, he had his middle finger stroked over the tight muscle ring again and again. Enjoyed how he kept twitching and pulsing. Finally he inserted the finger into the other one. He licked his lips hungrily as soon as the loser spread his legs further for him. Finally he had found the treacherous swelling and bent his finger. Zevran threw himself groaning into the hollow back. Now the magician concentrated only on the prostate. He varied the pressure on the nerve point, or let his finger circle over it. Zevran's moaning became louder and more desperate. Freyr could exactly see the contracting abdominal muscles. The twitching became stronger and stronger and then the eleven could no longer bear the pressure. The dark-haired man looked down in astonishment. He had read that this was supposed to cause an incredible orgasm, but that his sex partner splashed himself in the face was something he hadn't expected. His gaze wandered to the door. He could have sworn... but there was nothing. So he freed the elven from the utensils and looked at him examining. His breath was still hectic.

"You really enjoy having power over me, Amell.

"Oh, Zevran. We both know that you have the power in our games." 

"What?"

"You decide how far we go. If you say stop, it's over." 

"I should definitely read more. What you only know from books."


	5. love?

Completely exhausted, the Grey Warden let himself fall on the bed. In the last few days he hadn't really come to sleep. First they had saved the queen, then they had taken care of the problems in the Elven Quarter and not to mention the other things. Completed an order from the crows, played messenger boy, committed burglaries, talked to nobles and then killed Taliesen. Zevran had stood by him. Or rather freedom. The magician had been relieved about his decision. And to all abundance came now the queen with the great idea to marry Alistair. Should the Arl take care of it. He was just too tired to do it now. In all the chaos he hadn't even managed to give Duncan's shield to the other Warden, but he could still do that tomorrow. When this Landsmeet was over, he would jump for joy. Then perhaps they could concentrate on their task again and take care of the Blight. Who would have thought that grey wardens had so much to do with politics? With Duncan it had all seemed much simpler. With a loud bang the door was opened and Alistair storms in. Freyr laboriously straightened up and looked at the other man calmly. He would wait for the first outbreak before saying anything.

"They are stupid! I am to marry my half-brother's widow! What are they actually thinking? And I should also agree!!! With the maker!!! Have then all gone mad??? Is it not enough that they want to make me king? Now say something, too!!!"

"Are you finished already?"

"Yes..."

"I think you should agree."

"WHAT????!!!"

"Take it easy. So we secure her support and I doubt she'll marry you if you killed her father."

"You mean..."

"No matter what the outcome tomorrow, there will be a fight. Neither side can accept defeat. Either there will be a battle, or a duel. If it goes off halfway civilized, then you will fight against him."

"Why me?"

"On the one hand the nobles should see that their new king can fight and on the other hand... it is much more personal for you than for everyone else. I also have something for you."

He stood up and pulled out Duncan's shield under the bed. Carefully he handed it over to the former Templar.

"I found it in the warehouse and thought you'd like it."

"Duncan's shield..."

"Yes..."

"Thank you... I don't know what to say."

"Just don't say anything. He would have wanted you to have it. And now you should go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a damn exhausting day."

Alistair seemed to have something on his mind, but he left. Freyr knew it was just like being thrown out, but now he was just too tired. So he went directly to sleep. For once he didn't want to worry about the problems of the world.  
The Landsmeet had been going for hours now. Finally it came to the vote. The relief did not come when Alistair was voted for. As expected there was a duel. The magician really had to control himself not to intervene. He trusted his companion, but his opponent was an experienced fighter. Nevertheless, Alistair won. He beheaded his enemy with a clean blow and it came how it had to come. Anora withdrew from the agreement. So Alistair became the autocrat. Only a short time after the Landsmeet they left for Redcliff. There was a depressed silence in the whole group. The last battle. Then it was over. Alistair looked over to him all the time, but didn't say a word. Probably farewells were difficult for him. But this was not the last battle. It was just a diversion. Nevertheless, something sinister was hanging in the air. The magician didn't even know where his head was anymore. A pale taste had spread in his mouth when Riordan had summoned them. This taste only grew stronger when he learned why. But then everything changed again. Morrigan changed everything. There was a way out. And this way out had a nice extra. If the new King Fereldes hadn't made any progress with the witch until now, then he had the opportunity now. Quickly he hurried into his room.

"Alistair, we have to talk."

"Well... I was just about to come to you..."

"There's a way out. Morrigan knows a ritual. None of us have to make sacrifices."

"Oh... and what do we have to do for it?"

"Not us. You."

"As a king you only get bad news... What do I have to do?"

"Your wildest dreams come true. Sex with Morrigan."

"Good joke. That was a joke, wasn't it?"

"Um... no..."

"Why me?"

"I thought you might be interested in her..."

"To Morrigan?!"

"Because not?"

"Absolutely not!"

"I really thought..."

"Have I done everything wrong?"

"Please?"

"Anyway... none of us has to die?"

"No."

"I'll do it."

"You should still know that..."

"I don't need to know anything anymore. Tell her."

Freyr was confused. He had never experienced Alistair so angry. He had really believed that he had a weakness for the witch. He had seldom lain so wrong. Alone in his room he stared into the fireplace. If, with Andrastes ass, the other grey warden liked otherwise? Was it Leliana after all? Had he misinterpreted the signals all the time. The two really spent a lot of time together. But the other had said that... maybe a white lie. It had probably just been unpleasant for him. What an idiot he was. Now he had made the matter between the two even more complicated than necessary. As soon as the door was opened loudly, he rose. Alistair stormed towards him. Shocked, he gasped as the other held him.

"I'm doing what Leliana advised me not to do now."

With these words the blonde's lips lay on his. Surprised, Freyr opened his eyes. That was... his first kiss in the real world! The foreign tongue penetrated his mouth and explored him. Again and again his tongue was pushed and finally they waved around each other. He was pressed firmly against a wall. Immediately the magician began to tremble. The blonde's lips caressed his neck.

"Alistair... stop."

But the other one did not stop. His grip only tightened and he squeezed himself between his thighs. 

"Stop it..."

Angrily, the blonde-haired Templar... former Templar glittered at him.

"WHY ZEVRAN???? WHY NOT ME?

"I WAS RAPED! And you... you look so damn like him..."

As if under one blow, the other Grey Warden staggered back. Unstable, Freyr collapsed. Trembling, he huddled on the ground and tried to stop the tears. Steps quickly moved away. Silently he said the name of the other. He could not tell how long he had been sitting on the ground like that. At some point he felt a warm hand. Someone helped him up and led him to the bed. Zevran pressed against him and slowly calmed down again. Alistair stood in the door like a beaten dog. The elf waved closer to the other.

"Are you all right, Amell?"

"Yes..."

"He would never hurt you."

"I know..."

"You don't have to be afraid."

"Oh..."

"If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

Now the magician had to laugh. He believed the assassin was capable of that. He breathed in and out deeply a few times. His heart wasn't hammering so hard in his chest anymore. 

"You like him, I know that."

"From where?"

"Your looks, your whole behavior..."

"I..."

"That's all right."

"I'm... I'm scared."

"You don't have to. My offer still stands."

Shyly Alistair sat down finally beside him. His hand was grabbed and tenderly stroked. Zevran pressed him into the arms of the other Grey Warden. He held him very gently. It felt strange. 

"I... we have time... a lot of time.

"I would contradict that. It could well be that we all die tomorrow, my friend."

"Zevran is right..."

"I did..."

"This will take hold when we slay the archdemon. It doesn't make us invincible."

"True again..."

He was kissed again. This time there was no fear in him. Only when the strong hands glided over his body did he begin to tremble again. Zevran intervened directly and grabbed the other warden's hand. He wanted to try, he really wanted to. Only how? What was he going to do?

"Give him time, Alistair. He's been through a lot."

The former Templar simply put his arms around him again and held him tight. Slowly the blonde dropped back. Freyr's heart started pounding again, but the other did nothing, just held him tight. Zevran left the room smiling. The magician would have loved to keep him here, but he could understand that the assassin left. Again and again the other one stroked his back tenderly. Finally Alistair stood up and took off his armor. So he came back to bed with him. The magician followed the example hesitantly. Closely wrapped they lay there.

"We'll make tomorrow."

"As you command, my king."

"Oh... that's how it is now?"

"Think already."

"Then I order you to stay alive."

The dark-haired man had to laugh quietly. It surprised him himself how well he just felt. More would definitely not happen. But this was definitely a good start. At least that's what he hoped. And Alistair seemed to be satisfied with it, too. In his arms Freyr fell asleep satisfied.

\-----

Freyr leaned against a wall in the back corner of the hall. It was over. They had made it. Despite high losses all his companions had survived and already had plans, we their future life. Only he did not know so right how it should go on. Actually he had wanted to travel, but Alistair had begged him to stay. And if the magician was honest, he didn't want to leave anymore. Only that Alistair had made him an Arl was... unexpected. He was to rebuild the Grey Wardens in Ferelden. It was a bit strange, Alistair wanted to keep him in Ferelden, but then sent him away.

"I should hide in the shade, not you, my friend."

"Too many Templars..."

"I see. They won't come too close."

"What am I supposed to do when you're gone?"

"Alistair will be with you."

"Hmmm. And you will take care of the crows?"

"That's what I intend to do. Maybe I'll also go to Kirkwall. I'll keep my eyes open when I get there."

"Thank you, Zevran. If you need help, I'll be here."

"Maybe I'll come back to that. Goodbye, Amell."

"Goodbye, Zevran."

Sadly, he looked after the elf. A feeling of emptiness spread through him. During the whole celebration he squeezed himself into the shadows. The celebrations went on until deep into the night. He withdrew into one of the guest rooms. He would stay here for some time and then leave. First he would travel with Alistair through Ferelden and then leave for Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine to take up his new post. Somehow he was... angry? Disappointed? Alistair didn't want him to leave, nor did he want him to stay with him. The door opened and the new King of Ferelden entered. Freyr rose and looked at the blond man. 

"My King."

"You don't have to call me that. At least not when we're alone."

"As you wish."

"You're angry at me."

"No... I just don't understand you."

"Why?"

"You want me to rebuild the Grey Wardens, you give me an Arleng... You do everything so I don't leave Ferelden and at the same time you make sure I'm not around."

"I just wanted you to have the chance..."

"I don't feel that way right now, Alistair. For me, it looks more like you were thinking of the Grey Wardens. Or you absolutely wanted to prevent me from going with Zevran."

"I... no... I want you near me."

Sighing, he looked at the other man. What should he think of it now? On the one hand he could understand Alistair's thoughts... but nevertheless. The blonde stepped up to him and kissed him. Directly his arms lay down in the neck of his partner. Firmly the other pulled him to himself. The hands of the new king wandered to the belt of his robe. Asking Freyr looked at his partner.

"You taste of wine..."

"I had a few drinks, too."

"And that's why you take me off?"

"It's bedtime."

"And you want to spend the night in my bed?"

"Yes."

As soon as he was naked, Alistair took off his clothes and went straight to bed. Waiting, he just looked at him. The magician felt uncomfortable. So he quickly slipped under the blanket and snuggled up to the other one. Again and again they kissed. A rough hand drove over his chest. His nipples straightened up. His fingers gently stroked his nipple. Enjoying, he closed his eyes and sighed softly. But then he had to laugh. Alistair tried to knead his chest muscles.

"What are you doing?"

"I... I have no idea..."

"I'm not a woman, Alistair."

"I know... that makes it all even more complicated."

Amell turned around. Now he lay half on his partner and kissed his neck. Slowly he slipped deeper and licked over one of Alistair's nipples. His king moaned briefly. He circled the elevation with his tongue and enjoyed the quake of the other body. His hand slipped between the legs of the former Templar. His fingers danced gossamer over the still flaccid cock. Relatively quickly, however, the Dick straightened up. He embraced him and drove slowly up and down. Alistair moaning became louder and louder. Lightly the grip became firmer and the movements faster. Freyr drove the whole length up and down. Already now he could feel the first drops of pleasure. Then, however, he let go of it thickly and glided deeper. He gently massaged the testicles for a short time to then hike even deeper. His finger pushed against muscle ring. Quickly he wet his dry lips. But then Alistair grabbed his hand.

"I... not... not so..."

Alistair turned around with him. Now he was spoiled. His lover now imitated his tenderness. Enjoying, he groaned when his knob was embraced. His partner was a bit clumsy, but very tender. It took him much longer than his lover to get completely aroused. The king seemed insecure at first, but then became more and more courageous. The foreign hand was so good to him. He twisted his eyes under the closed eyelids and moaned again and again. First drops dripped down his tip. Suddenly he cramped completely. Not out of pleasure, but out of pure panic. Something hit his anus. Quietly he whimpered up.

"I'm sorry, Freyr."

Immediately Alistair withdrew and took him again in the arm. Amell listened to the fast heartbeat. They had a problem. A really big problem. He gently put his lips on the other's and smiled at him soothingly. Sighing, he pressed closer to the other man. He moaned briefly as their two limbs touched. So he embraced them and stimulated them both. Alistair's hand joined his and he groaned displeasantly. This feeling was new. He felt the pulsating hardness of his own cock and it drove him crazy. Their hands were moving faster and faster. At the same time they groaned darkly. A mixture of their sperm hit his stomach. He was kissed sluggishly. 

"I love you, Freyr."


	6. reunion and separation

Denerim's Arl was sitting in his study. He was in a terribly bad mood. The news from the free marches was a catastrophe. His cousin had disappeared without a trace. A war between magicians and Templars was imminent and how the church would react to all this was always questionable. Of all things Anders... He would never have believed this to be the case. Never. He should never have resigned his office as commander. But Alistair had had a new task for him. To protect Amaranthine and vigils keep he had then left to others. He was now responsible for Denerim. Well to be honest... he ruled the country with him. Alistair was always on the road. He travelled from Arleng to Arleng and left the rule to him. Of course not officially. Today he would return to the capital. The people loved their king and looked forward to their return. Freyr felt the same way. On the one hand he felt the same way, on the other hand he was worried. He and his former comrade-in-arms were a couple. He loved him. He really loved him, but their problem had never been solved. In all those years they had never slept together. The magician was simply frustrated. He just wanted to be close to his partner. He trusted him, but when they were in bed... Sighing, he sat back at the table and went through the rest of the letters. He had a list of documents ready for the king to sign. His partner never asked what he was actually signing. Even the King's other advisers often spoke to him first. He only kept out of one topic. The search for a queen. It had always been clear to him that this would happen and he... he was reluctant to become Alistair's mistress. And even that would still be the wrong name. They didn't even really have sex. An important attitude characteristic for a mistress. Up to now the king resisted a wedding, but if it was so far... then he would also look for some distraction. He was a young man and he lived like a church brother... They had tried everything, but neither he nor Alistair wanted or could... he stood up angrily. They had got drunk, taken herbs, tried magic... nothing, simply nothing had worked. Every time they saw each other, they were reminded of it. Their inability... They had even tried it with whores in desperation. And then Freyr had realized that it was his fault. He could not... he felt lust, but his body did not react. When Alistair touched him, his body reacted, but a fulfilled sex life looked different. It often took them hours until his cock woke up. Alistair had never once said anything about it. It didn't bother him much. Freyr for that all the more. The fanfares woke him from his thoughts. He quickly changed his clothes and hurried into the throne room. Unlike the other nobles, he did not bow before the king. The king had forbidden it to him. He was Ferelden's hero. He bowed his knee to no one. He spent hours in the throne room. Only in the evening could they retreat. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Alistair stormily pulled him towards him and kissed him. Amell gladly returned this gesture. Their tongues fought with each other, explored the foreign realm and robbed each other of every secret. Panting heavily, they separated.

"I missed you, Freyr."

"And I you too, Alistair."

"Next time you come with me."

"And we rule when you make your pleasure journeys?"

"You do that from the road."

"As if that were so simple..."

"Imagine us both riding through Ferelden."

"Followed by your court and your bodyguards."

"Don't ruin my fantasies."

"I can feel exactly what kind of fantasies you have."

Slowly he pushed him back to his chair and kneeled down in front of him. That was the only situation in which Alistair allowed this to happen. He quickly freed the erect knob from his tight pants. Directly he licked along the entire shaft. From the base to the top and back again. Soon he let his tongue circle around the glans. Alistair's moaning slowly grew louder. Freyr embraced the dick and pumped him hard as he put his lips over the tip. Slowly he began to suck as his hand moved faster. He let the hot cock slide further and further into his mouth until it hit his palate, then he withdrew again. The king's hands clawed into the chair's armrests. His lover held perfectly still. Finally he surrendered with a shrill scream. Amell licked the slack phallus a few more times and then sat down on one of Alistair's legs. He was kissed sluggishly and pressed firmly against the muscular body. 

"I love you, Freyr."

"I love you too, Alistair."

"How are you?"

"Quite well, even though I have my hands full preparing our country for a storm."

"I don't mean that."

"I know... I'm fine."

"I've been looking for doctors who could help you..."

"Alistair... I'm broken. There's nothing that could put me back together."

"You are not broken, Freyr. You are wonderful. You're beautiful, you're smart, you're all I need."

"You're crazy."

"You know that."

Together they went to the king's chambers and there to bed. Early the next morning he stole himself out of the room as usual. He got ready and went to the elf quarter of the city. The magician was a welcome guest here. It had cost him some strength to adapt this quarter to the others. He was the Arl and none of his subjects should live in misery. Again and again he looked around. He felt observed. After some time the dark-haired man returned to the castle. But the feeling remained. Again in his study he sat down at the desk. Something was wrong. Silently his lips began to form a few words.

"Stop, my friend."

"Zevran!"

The elf stepped out of the shadow and smiled at him. He walked straight towards him and shook his hand. The assassin even hugged him.

"What brings you here?"

"I've heard that a large bounty has been set on the Regent of Ferelden."

"On Alistair? Damn it! How could I have missed that? Why didn't my spies notice..."

"Not on Alistair. To you, my friend."

"To me, but... My cousin... I'm a apostate... a family..."

"You have power, you are popular and famous."

"And now you're here to collect the bounty?"

"No. Quite the opposite. I owe you my life".

"You owe me nothing."

"Oh yes. Whether you like it or not, I'll take care of you."

"Well well. How are you?"

"Excellent. I could kill some crows. Many crows. How's it going between you and Alistair?"

"Are they still hunting you?"

"Amell..."

"I've never recovered from this, and he... let's leave the subject."

"He has no idea what he's missing."

The door opened and his partner entered. Surprised and then confused, he stared at them both. They were still standing very close to each other.

"Ah, Alistair. Or do I have to say king now?"

"What are you doing here, crow?"

"Ex - crow. And I want to protect the warden."

"What?" 

"There are rumours. Seriously increasing rumors."

"Who wants to hurt him?"

"I don't know that."

"Freyr..."

"Don't panic. I'm hard to kill."

"Nevertheless. You need a bodyguard."

"Alistair... they only hinder me in my work."

"I accompany him at every turn. It will be like before."

Annoyed, Amell twisted his eyes. He probably had nothing to say here. The duty called and so he left the room. Only a few breaths later the assassin followed him. Zevran really didn't leave his side. Finally they were back in his room. The blonde elegantly sat on the edge of his desk.

"You do a lot for the elves."

"Hm."

"And the magicians."

"Hm."

"For all the people and for Alistair."

"What are you getting at?"

"What does he do for you? What do you do for yourself?"

"Apart from the fact that he is faithful to me, even though I am a single disappointment as a partner?"

"Amell... has it got that bad?"

"Let's leave that..."

A servant came in and brought them her dinner. The other advisors had invited some marriageable ladies to a banquet today. The magician preferred not to show up.

"You're not eating together?"

"No... it's not like our relationship is recognized. In addition, some Arls have set their minds on finding a queen. I stay out of it."

"You should just choose her."

"Are you serious?"

"One should always know the competition. Maybe his future wife will want your rival."

"And you mean, I should select him then as stupid a woman as possible?"

"Would be wise."

"Maybe I'd rather look for a successor."

"WHAT?"

"Not what you think. But I think I must disappear soon."

"What did you hear?"

"Rumors... only vaguely, but... it's such a feeling."

"Amell?"

"Allegedly Divine wants something from me. A seeker is in Kirkwall. Leliana works for Divine and something big is coming towards us. Then still the magician uprisings and my family is in the middle of it."

"You think they want to make an example of you."

"Would be possible, but I don't think so. I'm afraid they'd rather use me."

"You stopped the Blight... You built an army out of nothing... what a radiant hero."

"Exactly that. Put an alleged hero at the head of something not quite legal and it's more likely to be accepted."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I prepare Ferelden for the storm. At least I try. I also don't know if I just see a threat everywhere where there isn't one".

"Also true again..."

"I had a room prepared for you."

"I don't need my own room. I'll sleep with you."

"Could get tight in a bed with three of you."

"You sleep with Alistair?"

"I'll sleep at his place."

"That's what I mean, my friend."

"I'm never so sure about you."

Zevran was with them again for a week now. It was strange how quickly he had got used to the presence of the elf again. With some papers he entered Alistair's chamber. He was not alone, but talked to the assassin. As soon as they recognized him, however, the conversation stopped. The king's cheeks glowed red. Ashamed, he avoided his gaze. Freyr didn't even want to know.

"Ah, Amell. We were just talking."

"I don't want to know."

"But it was very interesting, my friend."

"Beautiful. I don't want to know."

"Do you need some signatures, Freyr?"

"Just a few."

"You just sign?"

"Of course. I'm used to following him."

"Don't say it, Zevran."

So the assassin just grinned. Annoyed, the warden twisted his eyes. He just really wanted a crop. Shaking his head he left the room. The elf followed him after some time. He spent the day in the city again. Twice a week he held a public audience. Every citizen could come to him and sign his problems. The fewest ordinary citizens came to the castle. So he went to them. Zevran stood near him the whole time. Only in the evening did he return to the castle. This time he went into his room. The blonde looked at him in wonder.

"Another dinner with some ladies?"

"Yes. I think that's why he travels so often. They try everything to marry him and he does not want."

Tired, the magician lay down in his bed. In the middle of the night an extra weight pressed down his mattress. The elf wouldn't really... but the hand that lay on his chest was too big. First he closed his eyes contentedly, only to freeze. The hand wandered into his pubic area. Immediately he grabbed the other's arm. Was he crazy? They were not alone. The skilful fingers lay themselves around his flabby tail. Directly the other one began to pump him. 

"Stop..." he whispered quietly.

And the blonde really withdrew. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was unpleasant for him. After all, Zevran slept in his room. Alistair moved strongly. The ceiling was lifted, but he could not tell what his king was doing. Suddenly he was turned on his back. A cheeky tongue glided over his glans. Quickly the dark-haired man struck his hands in front of his mouth to dampen the moaning. Alistair had never done that before. His whole body began to tremble. He began to tremble. Very slowly his dong hardened. Again and again the tongue slid along his whole cock. He didn't get a perfect erection, but it was amazing for him. Despite his hands his moaning became a little louder. His heart fluttered in his chest. To his chagrin, however, his lover soon stopped.

"I need to get some tips from the assassin."

"If you'd listened to me properly, Amell would look a lot more relaxed."

Frightened, Freyr sat up. A bright ball of light appeared in the room and he sparkled at the elf. He just grinned and rose from the bed. Hungry, his gaze glided over the excited man. Alistair, on the other hand, turned red at the sight. Without hesitation the smallest pulled the blanket away and looked at him. Elegantly he slipped towards the bed and crawled towards him. Freyr's breathing accelerated directly. His tongue jumped out and moistened his dry lips. His lover wanted to dagger the other man apparently with looks.

"Zevran..."

"Watch and learn, little king."

Already in the next moment the full lips lay themselves around his manhood. He groaned deeply and threw his head into his neck. Quickly the magician bit his lips. That wasn't fair to his partner. Involuntarily, however, he twisted his eyes as he sank deeper into the moist cave. His shaft had risen to full size and the strong muscles closed tightly around him. He was coarsely kissed before his partner slipped down and looked at the elven's mouthwork up close. At first it was unpleasant for him, but then all thoughts disappeared. Zevran sucked stronger and stronger and finally his nose bumped against his loins. Immediately the magician's hands got caught in his long hair and brutally directed the other man. The other moaned excitedly and let him rape this sinful throat. Freyr hadn't felt this excitement for years. His whole body seemed tense to tear. Ever stronger cramps in his abdomen tormented him. But that was the sweetest pain he could imagine. With a shrill scream the dark-haired man surrendered. Completely dazed, he lay in bed struggling for air. Firm lips lay on his. Alistair's tongue penetrated into him and he could only return the kiss sluggishly.

"You are beautiful, Freyr."

Exhausted, he smiled at his lover. He just felt like he was floating. Alistair had a strange taste. He lay here, covered in sweat and completely finished and the other one still found him beautiful? 

"Show me more, crow."

"But, but, my friend. Give him a break."

"The last time I saw him like this was almost five years ago."

"What? Are you serious?"

"I'm here and I can hear you."

"Sorry, Freyr..."

"Amell, you don't have to be embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed, I just don't like it when you talk about me like I can't hear you."

Zevran laughed quietly. The elf was still very excited. Broad-legged, he slipped on his lap and kissed his chest. Enjoying, the magician closed his eyes. These lips simply drove him mad. Hoarse he moaned. His limb straightened up again. That surprised him immensely. His Dong hadn't reacted like that for years. Zevran licked his auricle.

"Speak the spell."

"What about the..."

"I'm so horny for you. Please."

Grinning, he sat up and shook his head. He wouldn't make it that easy for him. He was also supposed to show Alistair something. He grabbed the other man tightly and turned around with him. He slid directly between the trembling thighs. His lips formed the well-known magic and he stroked teasingly over the twitching muscle ring. Without any problems he overcame the obstacle and palpated the soft, damp walls. Zevran moaned immediately and moved towards him. That Alistair was watching him didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Calmly he let his finger glide deeper into the elves and groped along the muscles. As soon as he felt the prostate he pushed it again and again with his finger. Immediately the Assassin threw himself into the hollow back. Amell took a lot of time before he pressed a second limb into the bottom. Quickly he pressed again and again against the blonde's pleasure point and made him scream. The muscles pressed themselves more and more tightly around his fingers and the body of his playing twitched uncontrollably. The slender fingers clawed into the soft sheet and he literally threw himself at him. The elf screamed his name as he surrendered. Happy, Freyr smiled and bent over Zevran. He never would have thought how much he was consuming this body. Without thinking about it he penetrated him and moaned. For the first time Zevran's arms queued around him and he didn't mind. He enjoyed the sinful narrowness around his cock much too much. Suddenly he felt a heavy body on him. Alistair kissed his back and neck. Amell twisted his eyes lustfully. The hard knob on his butt, however, made him freeze again. The assassin's hands drove calmingly over his body. The elf tensed his muscles and imprisoned him. Freyr growled up directly. The bottom moved further and further towards him. The hands lay down on his ass and pulled his cheeks apart. His breath faltered. A strange finger pressed against his anus.

"Speak the spell. Don't worry, I'll really kill him if he hurts you."

The magician did as he commanded. He buried his face in Zevran's neck bend. Without any problems Alistair's finger penetrated him. His hands cramped and his breathing accelerated. Zevran tensed his muscles again and again and tenderly kneaded his ass. The finger moved very slowly inside him. Rightfully cautious. Suddenly he moaned loudly. Alistair had hit his prostate and let him see stars. His body moved towards the finger and then stung firmly into the assassins again. This double stimulation was almost too much. He collapsed on Zevran as a second finger penetrated him. His muscle ring was stretched. The elf tenderly kissed his neck. Tried everything to distract him. His innermost seemed to pulsate and he thought he was coming any moment, but then the pressure disappeared. Amell didn't know whether he missed the feeling of fullness or should be relieved. Then the magician cried out. His lover penetrated him with only one thrust. Alistair's deep groan made him shudder. He was pressed firmly into Zevran. His muscles stretched more and more for his king. Slowly Alistair withdrew to return to him at the same pace. Zevran, on the other hand, threw himself at him. Freyr could not move. He was completely at the mercy of the two men. The strong muscles lay tight around his cock and really milk him. Drawn him deeper and deeper into the sinful narrowness. Meanwhile a hard Dong stabbed his anus. Stretched him and rubbed his walls. Groaning, he clawed himself into the sheet as his prostate was hit. His phallus began to twitch. The two men moaned his name. Alistair breathed again and again how beautiful he was, how wonderful. The blows of the former Templar became stronger. He grabbed his chin and twisted his head. Alistair kissed him longingly. With a dark growl he splashed into him. That was too much. Groaning, he surrendered into the elfs. He was grabbed and pulled away by the elf. Exhausted, he lay in bed. Alistair lay behind him and held him firmly in his arms while Zevran nestled to his chest.

"Crow..."

"Ex-Crow."

"For all I care. Whatever it takes, you're engaged."

"Oh and as what?"

"Mistress of the Regent?"

"Again... I can hear you."

"I love you, Freyr. He triggers something in you and if you need him to be happy... then I can handle it."

"I love you too, Alistair."

"And I stay."

Satisfied, Freyr fell asleep. Early the next morning he still woke up lying between the two men. Smiling, he turned around and kissed his lover. He returned the kiss immediately before he got up. He had to go to an audience and left the room through the secret passage. So he took the elf in his arms again. He looked at him calmly.

"I'll take care of you, Freyr."

"Thank you, Zev."

"I also brought you something from Kirkwall."

"A letter from my family?"

"Unfortunately no. A book."

"A book?"

"I stole it from one of your cousin's companions."

"You stole it?"

"Of course. I don't know if it's reality, but the title was interesting."

"And what is it called?”

"Naugthy Hawke."

"I should read it when I can."

"Will you read it to me then?"

"I will."

Freyr was doing very well. Zevran was now already some moons with them. His life had changed. It had been good before, but now... Smiling he worked his way through all the documents. Then, however, his features were frozen. A letter from Leliana. The Divine wanted to talk to him. The magician had to swallow hard. His hands trembled slightly. What should he do now? He had to talk to Alistair. So he put the letter aside and opened another one. It was just a small piece of paper. Quite simple, inconspicuous. There was only one word in it with sharp handwriting. This one word was apparently an answer. It caused more panic in him than the letter before, but calmed him down at the same time. Flee! That was Morrigan's handwriting very clear. He quickly grabbed the two papers and hurried to his king. He read the two messages.

"You must go, Freyr."

"But..."

"You must. Morrigan wouldn't risk being discovered if it wasn't necessary."

"I... You're right."

He was dragged more into his room than anything else. He and Zevran packed their things. It was the middle of the night. The king himself took two of his best horses out of the stable. The elf got on the horse and was silent. Passionately, Amell kissed his lover and got on the horse.

"Freyr..."

"I'll come back to you, Alistair. I promise you."

"Good. I will wait for you. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Zevran... protect him."

"That's what I do."

Quickly the magician turned his horse and rode off. He did not look back. His eyes were burning and he didn't want to cry. He left the man who meant everything to him. He wrapped the long coat tightly around him and pulled the hood deep into his face. They had been on the road for several hours when a hand gently stroked his arm.

"You return to him."

"I hope so, Zev."

"Absolutely sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where this story ends.


End file.
